


On wings of ice.

by Shannalot



Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Charr (Guild Wars), Charr Commander, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:07:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22276843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shannalot/pseuds/Shannalot
Summary: The Commanders tired. Tired of fighting, tired of pushing on for the sake of the world. Tired of no one using his name anymore. So what good could come out of a festival that he's ordered to be at? More so when that strange vision he keeps seeing out of the corner of his eye wont go away.
Relationships: Rytlock Brimstone/Logan Thackeray
Comments: 22
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

He was on edge. His fur kept standing on ends and he could feel a strange thrumming under his skin. Something big was going to happen. Only five months have passed since they’d killed Kralkatorrik and a lot of rumblings had been picked up by his fellow Whispers agents. If that wasn’t enough to deal with, he was seeing things, something he’d managed to keep hidden from the others. There were moments where this strange...being, would just appear. He didn’t know what it was. He didn’t want to know. He grits his teeth as another strange surge ran up his spine and he had to suppress the cry of agony he wanted to let out. That damn Priory scholar had said that re-forging that stone would help him. If anything, it’s made things worse! He was too old for this. He’s outlived his mate, his Warband, and too many friends to count. (Memories of Trahearne and Tybalt flash to the front of his mind.) He had secluded himself away these past few months. Only returning to the Citadel to stock up on supplies and report to show that he was still alive. (Though why the Iron Imperator wanted to keep checking on him was anyone's guess.) He stood and made his way to the communal showers and began to get on with his day. Pain and strange visions be damned he had things to do and places to go and people to hide from. After washing up and leaving the canteen with a full stomach he walked down the main road that leads to the Plains of Ashford.

“Pact Commander?” He stopped, only just keeping from snarling at the courier. (No one called him by his name anymore, it was always ‘Boss, Commander, Champion, Scion. Never his name.)

“What.” He growled and turned to the courier he knew was behind him.

“You have a letter from the Blood Imperator. Summons to a celebration to bring the four legions together and have a massive party as well.” He took the letter from the courier and nodded.

“Dismissed.” He said and the soldier saluted him before walking away. He scanned quickly over the letter. Each line sending a deep spike of fury further into him. He grabbed his communicator and spoke into it.

“Rytlock, I just got an invitation to a party.” He said with obvious disdain in his voice.

“Myn was an official summons...” Rytlock said sounding none too pleased himself.

“Why was yours an official summons but myn was an invitation?” He rubbed at his temples. “Have I been gone so long from legions that people forget I’m still a Blood Legionnaire?” He crumpled up the invitation and tossed it to the ground.

“I think it has more to do with you being The Commander.” He said and could imagine Rytlock making air quotations. He growled at that.

“I have a name. You’d think that the Imperator would take note of his best and brightest.” He growled a few insults under his breath. “Cubs these days...Where are we meeting up? No doubt the others have all gotten invitations if the rest of the Pact has.” He heard commotion no doubt coming from behind Rytlock but couldn't make out the voices.

“We’re uh, waiting for you in the Black Citadel out near the Memorial Quadrant. We’ll see you soon.”

He wasn't happy in the slightest. He hadn’t been back to the homelands in far too many years for him to count. He wasn't keen on going back, not after all this time. It’s why he offered to come to help the Citadel when it had requested aid from the other legions. He walked alone with his thoughts. Walking along the Mustering Grounds and passed The Core, he realized that no one had ever stopped to ask how he was or if he was okay. Not even after he’d died. Not even his death had prompted anyone to ask him, not Braham when they had walked into that room filled with his own corpses (Illusion or not). Not when he’d been nearly crushed to death under the rubble after the dissaster of a fight with Kralkatorik. Not when he refused to move from Aurenes side. Never.

He felt a flare of pain shoot up his spine. He shook it off with only a mild growl to confuse a passing cub. Another thing he noticed, no one really knew who he was unless explicitly told where to find him and what he looked like. Not that he wanted his face plastered all over the place, but one would think that the ‘Legendary Pact Commander’ would be a well-known face. Those recruitment posters would be all over the place. Though maybe that was in part due to his fellow Whispers agents trying to keep his identity a low profile. They were doing a remarkably good job at it he’d give them that.

“You sure Gorrik? It’s bound to get rowdy. Four Charr Legions, hundreds of barrels of ale. And Braham.” The Norns booming voice drew him out of his thoughts as he drew closer. He paused and hid behind a nearby statue and listened.

“Hm… No. No, no. I can't miss this opportunity for data.” Gorrik was here as well? That was interesting. A small pang of guilt filled the pit of his stomach. Always did when he was around the kid. He’d cost him his brother after all. He listened to them talk more, happy chatter and excitement of new fauna research, out drinking the legions and Rytlock just smiling and shaking his head in amusement. He looked into the reflective surface of the statue. Made out of steel of course. He saw his face looking back at him. His horns were chipped and scarred, his black fur was graying in many places. He’d pulled out his old kit, when he’d first taken down Zhaitan and had to give a speech. Trahearne had picked it out for him, said it made him look presentable. The suit was a fine red with golden trim, almost looking like one of the human's formal wear. He plucked at it now, it was dusty, frayed hems, he’d not had a chance to get it taken care of. He moved from behind the statue and approached them, surprised not to see Marjory or Kas. As he opened his mouth to point that out he heard the telltale sound of a Mesmer portal opening and closing to his right.

“Oh, Hey everyone. Long time no see.” Kasmeer greeted.

“Oh, hey boss. It’s been a while.” Marjory greeted. He grits his teeth at the nickname.

“It’s good to see you both. How have the two of you holding up.” He said giving a pointed look to Kas.

“Elona was hard. Kralkatorrik left a lot of misery behind. If you lost the thing you lean on, that much ugliness is...”

“It changes you.” Marjory finished. “But we’re working through it.” She gave a small smile to Kasmeer, who returned it.

“If you say so.” Rytlock said sounding a bit uncomfortable.

“Look, enough gloom and doom. It really is nice to see you all again, I mean- Braham has hair again!”

“I have hair again!” Braham cheered drawing a chuckle out of everyone. Well. Most everyone. He simply nodded in agreement.

“Now, let's go collect on some well-deserved R&R.” There was a happy murmur of agreement from Kasmeer, Gorrik, and Braham as they walked towards the chopper that would take them back to the Homelands. Rytlock looked worried but hid his expression quickly before joining the others. He looked off to the right, hoping to gain one last glance of Ascalon, sure that he’d no doubt be stuck in the Homelands for longer than he wanted, only to stop as he noticed the strange glowing thing crying behind the statue he’d been hiding behind. He ignored it and joined the others in the chopper.

The flight back to the Home Lands was quiet on his part (Due to him attempting to fain sleep). The others ‘woke’ him every so often to get him to join in on the chatter. Braham excited to drink whiskey for the first time, Marjory curious to see and be deep in to charr territory, Gorik mimicking the interest but more for the possibility of new research. Rytlock was quiet but talked here and there. Making comments or corrections when appropriate. Kasmeer gave him worried looks. Burn him but that woman was insightful. She was no mind reader but she knew something was bothering him.

They landed soon enough to surprisingly little fanfare and a single soldier saluted them at the helepad. “Commander, Tribune Brimstone and…others.”

“At ease soldier.” Rytlock replied. “You our escort?”

“No sir, that would be Stoneglow” A look of surprise flit across Rytlocks face before it was replaced by a look of weary resignation.

“Whats wrong Rytlock? Aren’t you happy to see me?” The voice came from off to the left as a female charr came stalking up the off ramp.

“Crecia, long time no see.” A familiar look crossed Rytlocks face. It was the ‘I’m a cub talking to my first crush’ look. The same look he’d seen aimed at Logan too. He’d have to pull the cub aside and have a chat with him later.

“A pleasure to meet you Tribune Stoneglow.” He said, stepping forward and drawing attention from Rytlock. “Not sure why Rytlock and I need an escort on our own Homeland.” He noted that Gorrick, Kas and Jory had managed to sneak away. Even Braham of all people!

“It’s not that you need it Commander.” Crecia responded. “More to show you off. You are Blood Legions best and brightest after all.” She beckoned them to follow her.

“So...” Rytlock started up. “Surprised to see me?” Crecia gave him an amused but unimpressed look.

“No, I’m the one who told Bangar to invite you. But what are you thinking? Bringing that thing with you.” She snapped the last part.

“Uh, you mean Braham?” Rytlock asked confused.

“The Elder Dragon. The scouts reported her doing...something to The Brand just south of hear.”

“She’s purifying them.” He cut in before Rytlock could respond. He said it with a touch of pride. Aurene was like the cub he’d never had.

“Regardless, what are its orders?” It’s? That sounded like-

“Aurene doesnt take orders from us.” Rytlock answered. Good. He’d almost said something that would have been disrespectful to his Tribune. Crecia tossed a look over her shoulder to him, he had probably been caught making a face because she turned away quickly.

“We’ll table it for now. Come on, you’re late for the ceremony and Bangar wont start without you.” He paused in his steps and grabbed Rytlocks arm. Rytlock gave him a confused look but gave him his full attention.

“What exactly are the two of you to each other?” He said with a bit of ire in his voice. “I’m too old to be dealing with your beating around the bush cub, no more secrets, like you agreed.” He said in a low voice.

“Uh, Crecia and I are...” Rytlock fumbled over his words, clearly caught off guard.

“We’re old friends.” Crecia answered from next to him. He didnt bother hiding the disdain on his face as he tossed her a dirty look, doubly so for Rytlock as he mumbled a quick ‘Very.’ He let go of Rytlocks arm and stalked past the two of them out in to the field. He saw massive stands filled to the brim with Charr, all four legions. Even Flame was here. A flash of his fathers face passed in his minds eye and a pain shot up his spine. This was shaping up to be very much not his day.


	2. The Chill of Vexation

As they approached the large clearing ahead of them, they could hear the booming sound of cheers, shouts, and roars. There were wooden stands filled to the brim with charr, even the flame legion seemed to be present.

“Ah our honored guests have arrived! A special homecoming for The Pact Commander. And with tribune Brimstone in tow.” The gathered crowd roared with delight as they stepped forward. He gave the crowd and his Imperator a quick salute before stalking towards the Blood Legion stands. Rytlock and Crecia sat next to him in the higher stands.

“Here we go...” Rytlock sighed out as the Imperator continued his speech. He took the moment to drift into his own thoughts now that, for the time being, eyes weren’t on him. This whole ordeal worried him. The thrum of something under his skin and in his bones hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had gotten worse.

“That’s, woah- He’s gotten big.” Rytlocks voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he glanced down to see who he was talking about.

“Cubs tend to do that, ‘specially when you’re not looking.” Crecia said with a hint of amusement.

“You know that cub?” He asked with a pointed glare at Rytlock. Rytlock nodded, too focused on the charr below to notice the look being thrown his way.

“Yeah he’s-” whatever Rytlock said was drowned out by Bangars shout. “Now who’s ready for some violence!” Cheers and shouts sounded out through the stands as a branded devourer took the field and charged the charr in the field bellow. The warband below drew their weapons and charged it as well.

“What the-” He almost jumped out of his fur when he heard Brahams voice suddenly next to him. “is that a branded devourer?”

“When did you get here?” He asked surprised.

“Oh, hey Commander, I just got here. Tried finding food stalls but nothing’s set up yet and I guess this is why.” He sounded put out and was pouting as he sat next to him. “Three against one? That’s hardly a challenge.” Braham said, disappointment clear in his voice.

“It’s not about the challenge, it’s about catharses.” Crecia said and turned to Rytlock with a smile on her face. “He’s good isn’t he?”

“He’s not bad.” Rytlock agreed, though he tried to hide it, there was a hint of pride in his voice.

“Outstanding Steelcatcher! Way to earn that promotion!” Bangar shouted. “The stain of Kralkatorik is wiped from Tyria forever!” The crowd roared in agreement and as Steelcatcher raised his blade to strike the final blow, time seemed to slow for him. That strange thing he’d been seeing so much recently was there on the field. Pointing at Steelcatcher before weeping and vanishing, He keeled over in his seat as a flash of lightning struck and the ground began to shake.

“Commander!” he heard two voices over the shouting around him. “Commander what’s wrong!?” He growled and forced himself up. His vision had whited out and he hadn’t noticed.

“I’m fine!” He shouted and shook off their help. What’s happening.” He said trying to stall till his vision returned.”

“Dunno, but that devourer sure looks like a challenge for some charr now!” That sounded like Braham.

“Maybe too much of one.” Crecia.

“Yeah.” Rytlock. He looked out to the field and as his vision slowly came back, he saw that the once small devourer had grown tremendously.

“Am I ever going to catch a break.” He growled as he drew his weapons and jumped into the fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got some one to edit for me! I already have a bunch more written out, just gotta type it up. Dunno how frequently ill update this but hey! Let me know what you all think!


	3. Doubts

He glanced down at the pit where Ryland and his group were trying to keep the massive Devourers' attention on them. She looked over to Crecia who shook his head, most likely guessing he was going to jump into the fray.  
  
"We cant upend the ceremony. We need-" She looked around. "There, the harpoon guns. We'll tie the creature down and let Ryland finish it off."  
  
"On it." Rytlock answered as he ran across to the Ash Legion stands.  
  
"Assist only, Rytlock." Crecia called out to him as she ran to the Iron Legion stands.   
  
"You grab the other harpoon Commander! I'll guard the other Imperators!" Braham shouted as he rushed off as well. He drew in a breath and ran towards the harpoon gun near the blood legions stands. As he neared the gun the large Devourer let out an ear-piercing screech. He looked to the field and saw the large twin taled scorpion shake itself and large crystals began flying at the stands, some of which were flying at him. He rolled out of the way in time to watch the crystal land where he'd been standing moments before. He grunted as he stood up and watched as the crystal began twitching and unfurling itself, turning in to a smaller Devourer. Its twin stings lashed about above it as its claws pinched out at him.  
  
"Ugh, hate these things." He said. The magic he had learned in Elona was still new to him, 'Firebrands' they called themselves. He pointed his axe at the devourer and pulled it towards himself. A phantom axe digging into the crystalized carapace of the scorpion, it let out a strange squeal of surprise as it was dragged forward, quickly while it was dazed he drove his axe into the thing right between the eyes. A disgusting squelch filled his ears as his axe blade and his armor was splattered with what little blood the thing had in it. He looked off to his right and saw Crecia and Rytlock fire both their harpoons into the massive creature and it reared up on its hind legs in pain. Not wanting to give it the chance to recover, he moved quickly to the harpoon gun and fired his own into one of the beats claws.   
  
"Alright, grand finally Steelcatcher. You ready?" Bangar said through his megaphone.  
  
"Ready!" Shouted Ryland. He raised his blade above his head, but before he could bring his blade down to kill the beast, a deafening roar came from overhead.   
  
"Oh no. Aurene..." As the sinking feeling of realization hit him Aurene swooped down from the sky, a rainbow blur, as she blasted the branded devourer and purified it. A large white crystal pillar now stood in the center of the field. As charr that had scattered out of range of the purifying breath and others that had fled from the fighting began slowly returning to the field and bleachers, all staring at the new crystal statue in the center of the field. Low murmurs of annoyance and concern began to bubble up in small pockets. A nervous laugh from the loudspeakers drew everyone's attention back to Bangar.  
  
"How's that for a spectacle, friends? A little surprise from the Pact Commander and yours truly to kick off the celebrations! Now then let's hear it for those fireworks!" There was an unconvinced murmur in the crowd as a few people half-heartedly clapped. "A big thanks to everyone who made this possible, now then, there's mountains of food to eat and gallons of ale to drink. let's get to it!" At that, the crowd did cheer in agreement as many excitedly wandered off to find food and drink to feast on.  
  
"Wasn't expecting that," Rytlock said to his left. "Don't think he was either." He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his muzzle but nodded his head in agreement. Rytlock pats his shoulder before stepping away from him and moving towards Bangar down on the field. "We'd...better go find Crecia." He took a moment to stand there and collect himself. _'Nothing ever goes the way it should. Something always goes wrong, maybe you're cursed. Maybe you bring problems with you.'_ He'd had these thoughts before. Any sane person does. But some times, like now. The thoughts felt...louder. Like they weren't just thoughts. They felt like they were the world's way of telling him, and reminding him of his failings and problems. He shook off the fog clouding his head and followed after Rytlock. Before he could even salute and present himself properly to his Imperator Bangar cut into him.  
  
"You know, Champion, when I invited you here, I figured you'd come armed-as befits a military leader." He opened his mouth to retort but was cut off again. "Didn't think you'd point your heaviest artillery at your own legion though. Not very politic is it."   
  
"Sir, Aurine is not a weapon. She has taken a personal interest in repairing Kralkatorriks damage." Rytlock gave him a sidelong glance and Crecia gave Rytlock a smug look. "I'll talk with Aurine about being more careful or giving me a warning next time to avoid something like this happening again." Bangar gave him an appraising look.  
  
"Your apology could use some work, but-"  
  
"The Commander doesn't have anything to apologize for. Aurine does what she wants." Rytlock cut in.  
  
"Rytlock. Still talking out of turn huh?" Rytlock grumbled a half-hearted 'sir' under his breath. Bangar shook his head and chuckled. "Sure was a sight. I'll give you that. I can appreciate why you keep it around."  
  
"Her" He corrected. Bangar gave him a calculating look before nodding.  
  
"Her." he turned to Rytlock fully. "Rytlock, we'll talk later, just the two of us. Try not to embarrass me out there." Without another word Bangar stalked away, leaving them standing in uncomfortable silence.  
  
"Dragons...We've all lost people." Crecia said breaking the silence. "Some of us- entire warbands. He's just on edge. We're all on edge." He looked over to her and frowned. Why was she telling him this? He knew the stakes, he more than anyone knows the price they've had to pay because of the dragons. _'You're an outsider.'_ The voice in the back of his mind nagged. _'You've been gone so long, you're not one of them anymore, you don't belong.'_ He shook his head. "A thousand well-armed soldiers with tempers on edge."  
  
"She was just trying to help." He tried to hide the irritation in his voice.  
  
"Whether your dragon follows orders-"  
  
"She's not a damn weapon! She's isn't a soldier!" He shouted at her. Unable to stop the surge of anger.   
  
"Commander, the charr have never not had something to fight-" He rounded on Rytlock next.  
  
"Stop treating me like I'm some cub who doesn't know our people's history!" He jabbed a finger into Rytlocks' chest. "You've all been treating me like some outsider who doesn't know his own people's history or some cub who never paid attention in the fahrar." Rytlock raised his hands in a placating manner.  
  
"Commander we were just-" _'They don't want to hear your complaints. Your worries. Its never about you is it?'_ He clenched his fist. No, it never was about him. It was always them.   
  
"I've been a loyal Blood Legion soldier far longer than you or Bangar or whoever this is." He said pointing to Crecia who simply stood there stunned. "Have been breathing air let alone holding a sword." He rounded on Crecia next. "And don't you talk to me about loss, I've lost far more than you could ever fathom. I lost my Warband to the ghosts, My sire was executed by the legions for treason, I lost my mate to Mordremoth." A look of embarrassment came over Crecia. Rylock and Crecia stood awkwardly next to each other, unable or unwilling to say anything. _'Can't own up to their own mistakes. Why did you lose so much for people that care so little.'_ He pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. He was starting to get a migraine. He'd just spoken out of turn to two superior officers, one of them a close friend no less.  
  
"I need a drink..." He didn't bother saying anything else as he walked away. Once he reached a small clearing of people chatting amicably he took a moment to collect himself. That wasn't like him. To lose his cool that quickly. He did need that drink after all.  
  
"I'd like a little extra fun of the, after dark verity." That got his attention. He looked off to his left and saw two Blood soldiers eying him up. "You can tell a lot about a person by the weapon they carry." He walked over to them and set a hand on his axe as he drew closer, drawing a smirk from them both.  
  
"Nice axe." The smaller of the two soldiers said to him. Forget the drink. This would work as a good distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight Scenes are hard.


	4. Cold Frustration

The feeling of chill wind biting into him through his fur pulled him from his sleep. He'd somehow thrown the furs himself in his sleep, it seems. He took a moment to let his thoughts to catch up to his brain. A look through the open tent window showed the sun only just starting to peek out over the horizon.

He'd managed to sleep in, it seems. He was very grateful for that small fact now that his memories were coming back to him. Shouting at his superior officers, what was he a cub? He sighed and shifted, only to feel two sets of arms from either side of him tighten around him in complaint. A low chuckle escaped his throat as more of last night unfolded to himself. 

"Still got it." He said aloud to himself and began to slowly untangle himself from last night's bedmates. He was glad to know despite his age, he was still attractive to others. 

"Commander? Commander, are you in there?" That was Kasmeer; what was she doing looking for him this early in the morning? 

"Yeah, Kas, it's me." He said, slowly stretching himself out as he tried finding where he'd tossed his loincloth. He heard the sound of the tent flap open behind him, shocked; he quickly turned around and gave the poor girl an unfortunate eyeful. 

"The others told me that- Oh sweet Dwayna, you're naked-and there are others- I-!" She quickly vanished in a mist of purple smoke and butterfly, and a series of hiccups could be heard outside the tent. He sighed and rubbed his muzzle. This was going to be a morning, wasn't it? He quickly dressed and marched outside in a huff and tapping on the shoulder of a hiccuping Kasmer.

"Kas, if I didn't know you better, I'd take offense at your reaction. Seeing as how I do know you, though, I think I'll see it as funny instead." She turned slowly around, choosing to look everywhere but him.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just barged in like that." He chuckled and gave Kasmeer a pat on the shoulder. "It's just- Rytlock said something happened last night? His smile fell off his face at the mention of Rytlock. 

"Right. You could say that." He motioned for her to follow him. He was hungry, and it had been too long since he'd had a proper charr meal. As they approached a broad line of food stalls, he was shocked to see a Sylvari and Asura selling food here. He dragged them over to take a look at what they had on offer.

"Ah! Good morning sir charr! And to you as well my lady!" The sylvari greeted them in that strange way they had of speaking. "I am at your service! If its food you're looking for, I have a wide variety of excellent breakfast foods! Fried eggs and sausages, or pastries! Would you care for an omnomberry muffin?" 

"Oh! Do you have any omnomberry bars?" Kasmeer asked, pulling out her coin purse. "Of course!" The sylvari handed over two bars to her. "That'll be three silver, please." Kasmeer happily obliged the man.

"You wouldn't happen to have anything wrapped in bacon, would you?" He pulled out his own coin bag. He looked up to see a look of panic on the merchants' face.

"Bacon? W-well no, I- sadly, I don't." He frowned and shook his head. "It's fine. I'll take an egg sandwich, extra mayo if it's no trouble." the mans' sigh had him frown in confusion. "Is something wrong? You seem like somethings bothering you."

"Well, no, nothing wrong, per se," he said as he busied himself making the sandwich. "But, I've hardly sold anything while I've been up here. The cost of the asura gates and supply alone was a decent dent to my funds, but I figured a massive celebration! A great chance to earn some coin and make new connections and see more of the world. Only, it seems as if almost every charr is avoiding my stall." the merchant handed him his wrapped sandwich. "Three silver as well, sir." He dug into his coin purse and placed two gold coins into the mans' hand. 

"Keep the change; hope your luck turns around." as he and Kasmeer walked away, he looked around at the other stalls. Just as the sylvari had said, plenty of charr around, and the charr owned stalls seemed busy, but the other races seemed to have little to no customers at them. Odd.

"Well, while we eat and walk, do you mind telling me what happened after we split up?" Kasmeer said, pulling him out of his thoughts. He grimaced at the memory.

"The others, after we dealt with the branded devourer, they kept treating me like an outsider, like someone who doesn't know his own people's history. I'm older them all of them, Kas; I don't need telling about how we've never not been fighting. I certainly don't need to be told about how much we've lost to the dragons. I've seen that first hand. I'm familiar with loss." The last thing was said in a low sad rumble. Kasmeer, for her part, only hummed in thought as she bit into her bar. 

"I can see how being treated like an outsider would be aggravating. So maybe you did have a right to snap at them." Kasmeer said, to his surprise.

"You don't think it was out of line?" He asked, taking a bite of his egg sandwich. 

"Well, I'm no charr, but I think speaking to a superior officer like that would have landed you in hot water, even if you are The Commander." She finished her bar and put away the second. "I'll save that for 'Jory." She stopped, took a breath, and looked him in the eyes.

"As for on a personal level. You know Rytlock better than the rest of us. You're both from the same legion; both of you worked together longer than you've worked with us. Just talk to him and put things out there." She gave him a small smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I promised I'd help 'Jory I'd help her with some cubs that had wanted some lessons about the world outside of the Blood homelands." she gave him a wave and smile before jogging off. "See you around, Commander!" His lightening mood plummeted again. 

He wasn't sure why they refused to use his name. Was it out of respect? Were they fond of nick-names and not titles? A cold breeze had him shivering. He'd put on his armor today. Thankful for the houndskin mantle he'd obtained during the whole mess with the fallen god Balthazar. Another cold breeze hit him as he stewed in his thoughts. His now graying fur shifted in the breeze as he walked along and stewed in his own thoughts.  **_ 'What does it matter if they are simple pet names. If they respected you enough, they'd use your real name. Not some title.'  _ ** The nagging voice in his head said. 

He shivered. "Shouldn't have worn this cuirass..." He looked down at himself. His chest was exposed on one side, the chainmail long having fallen away. The leather belts and harnesses were even stained an odd brown color. No longer the rich, supple brown of fresh leather, now it was a weird burnt brown. At least his feet were warm. He hated having cold feet. The Kodan he'd met when dealing with the Claw Of Jormag after defeating Zaitain had gifted him a very warm pair of boots. They even fit his feet right. Something most of the races never got right. 

_'-and then it was gone, sunk beneath the ice.'_ the staticky voice of Braham coming from his communicator startled him out of his thoughts. Voice sounding slurred. _'Just me. My guild. Wind howling in our ears. Thought the Spirits were laughing at me. I was so angry.'_

_'Where are they now? Your guild?'_ He didn't recognize that second voice. It sounded charr, though. 

_'Dunno. Hoelbrak. Shiverpeaks. Doesn't matter.'_ Braham said, sounding dejected through his likely drunken speech.

_'They're your Warband. It matters.'_ The other voice said, a hint of understanding in his voice.

_'You wouldn't understand. Bet nobody's ever looked at you like you were a disappointment. Not in your damn life.'_ Braham replied, sounding agitated. There was a long pause before the other voice replied again.

_'Come on. You wanna go a round in the pits? Show 'em what we're made of?'_ The voice sounded encouraging. 

_'Lead the way, golden boy.'_ Braham said, sounding like the other man's plan to distract him from his troubles had worked. He went to turn off his communicator when Gorriks annoyed voice came through clearly.

_'Can we please keep...this...channel...clear?'_ He could practically see the small asura rubbing his temples as he spoke. No doubt upset that the talking had distracted him from researching one bug or another. 

"Excuse me? Pact Commander?" A voice behind me called. He turned and saw an Ash legion scout. She stood at attention and thumped her chest in salute. "I have a message from Tribune Stoneglow." He wanted to tell the scout to shove the message someplace but thought better of it.

"Out with it, soldier." He crossed his arms. 

"She's requesting your presence out near her camp out a little way north of Santias Forge."

"Is this urgent?" He asked. Hoping to delay that meeting a while longer.

"Yes, sir. She said there were a few things to discuss with you. Something about yesterday?" Burn him, no putting it off.

"Understood. Dismissed." The scout saluted him once more before stalking off. He made his way as slowly as he could towards the location the scout had mentioned. From where he stood, he could see the forge clearly. As he passed the forge, a booming voice came over the intercoms. 

_'Imperator Ruinbringer here. Your orders for this celebration: Hone your skills. Meet and mingle. Learn from each other.'_ His tone was warm but firm. _'After all: Warband above self. Legion above Warband. Charr above legion... Charr, above all.'_ that at least, he could agree on. The charr have been splintered for too long now. Over 300 years of infighting, these past 30 years have been the closest the charr have been to unified since they last had a Khan-Ur.

Passing the forge in a clearing surrounded by trees up an incline, he spotted Stoneglows camp. He also noticed that she wasn't alone. He spotted a few of the imperators there too, as well as...

"Commander! Good to see you." Marjory called out to him, stepping away from the soldier she'd been speaking with. 

"Good to see you too, 'Jory. What are you doing surrounded by Charr Imperators?" He asked, looking over the group in front of him. He spotted Malice Swordshadow, the Ash Legion Imperator, as well as Smodur The Unflinching, the Iron Imperator. "And how'd helping those cubs go?" She smiled and walked with him up the slope. 

"Well enough. They were Flame cubs. Just old enough to start entering the...fahrar? He nodded. "They'd never seen a human before. Wanted to ask loads of questions about what Kryta was like, the food we eat, and so on." he chuckled at the image. Tiny cubs asking any question that came to their mind. No fear of asking the wrong question. His smile fell when he heard Tribune Stoneglow address him as he approached. 

"Well done, Commander. I heard you've been making an effort to ingratiate yourself." she looked down at a stack of papers she had on her desk but gave him a sidelong smile. He ignored the remark and saluted. 

"Reporting as requested, mam." He greeted. Stoneglow seemed to hesitate a moment at his response, looking over to Marjory and back at him before nodding. 

"I called you here because I wanted to ask you to talk with the Imperators and for you to be seen out and about with your fellow charr." She scratched idly at her horns. "You're one of us, Commander, but you've been gone so long that people have forgotten. Then with your dragon flying around, making everyone nervous. It'd just be good optics." He nodded.

"Anything else, mam?" she handed him a paper from the stack on her desk.

"Yes. I'd like you to speak with our Minister of Morall, goes by the name of Varinia Stormsounder. They'll be southeast of here by Sacnoths stream, near The Crag. Almora was there too, last I saw." She added off hand. "Other than that. Just be seen. Dismissed." He saluted her and walked back towards Marjory. 

"Well. Looks like you'll be busy playing diplomat again, huh boss?" He groaned in response. 

"Looks that way." He said. "You know how much I hate playing diplomat. It was bad enough in Elona. At least here I'll be more in my own element." Marjory gave him a sympathetic smile and pat his cheek. 

"You'll do fine, boss. You always do. As for me, I think I'll stick my nose where it doesn't belong."

"Try not to get that nose bitten off, detective Delaqua. Charr bite." She laughed at his joke as she walked away. Leaving him with that nagging voice in his head.

**_ 'See? I told you. You don't belong here anymore. Maybe you never did.' _ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came back! Hope you guys like this update!


	5. It calls, It Crumbles.

It turns out that introducing himself to the Imperators and being seen by his fellow charr was doing mean tasks. The legendary Pact Commander, moving boxes and placing scrap into a furnace. As he approached the Flame camp, he overhead the snifflings of a cub.

"Calm yourself, little one. If you keep your head, a fight is nothing to be afraid of." The shamans' voice was deep and soothing. 

"But you're big. And you're a boy. I'm not either!" the cub said. She sniffled and rubbed her snout. The shaman gave her a sad smile.

"Remember what I told you? That doesn't matter anymore." He said.

He was hesitant to interrupt the moment, but he needed to get this out of the way.

"I hate to interrupt but, I'm looking for your-imperator. If you have one." He hadn't kept up with Flame legion intel after Logan, Rytlock, and himself had killed the so-called god.

"Not yet. All we've got is this truce we negotiated with Ruinbringer." He couldn't help but smile. The Gold Legion finally brought to heel by Blood supremacy. Ha! If only his sire had lived long enough to see this day so he could rub it in his face before shooting him. 

"And who was responsible for that?" He asked. Watching the cub that the shaman had been speaking to stalk off near the edge of the small cliff they were on. 

"I am." the shaman said.

"Then I'd say that makes you the front runner." He turned his attention back to the shaman and saw a look of consternation.

"I hope. Took years-centuries, actually. But here we are. Those of us that want peace." The shaman looked over the Flame camp. It was small, a few tents scattered here and there over what he'd thought was a pit with a pyre in the center, but was actually a lava pit. Why were they always so dramatic about the lava?

"I'm Efram Greetsglory. And you must be the Commander. Your dragon gave you away." Efram smiled at him.

"About that..." he felt a bit of heat under his fur. 

"No need. It's a new world. She's finding her place in it, as are we." That was a surprise to hear, and to his shame, he was unable to keep his surprise hidden. Efram's smile faltered as he seemed to look over him. "I know you. You're Clements cub, aren't you?" He felt a cold spike in his heart.

"'Frade I don't know that name." He replied stiffly, though Efram didn't seem to notice, deep in his thoughts as he was.

"Yeah, it is you." His face lit up with recognition. "Same horns, you've got the horn plates he described too. Always talked about how proud of you he was." Efram gave him a sad smile. "Shame he's not here to see you. I'm sure he would have loved to talk to you after everything you've done." A memory flashed in his mind's eye. His sire's face looking up at him from the end of a rife, sad understanding on his face.

"If he was so proud of me, he wouldn't have run off and made my life a living hell as a cub to join you." He said in a subdued voice. "I spent most of my life paying the price for his betrayal." He clenched a fist and took a steadying breath. "I was ordered to come see all of the Imperators. Is there anything you need help with?" Efram gave him a worried look before looking over the small gathering of cubs down below.

"Hm, I suppose it would help me a lot if you could check on the cubs and make sure they're alright. Show them that not everyone hates them." He nods and walks over to the cub that Efram had spoken to before he'd interrupted. 

"Hey cub, looks like you got something on your mind." He asked, taking a seat next to her. He watched her hunch in on herself, tail lashing in irritation. 

"I hate it here. I miss home. I miss lessons with just the girls." He sighed and nodded. He pitied the cub. Though he couldn't tell her that. 

"I'm sorry, but with a little patience, things can get better," he said.  **_ 'You're lying to the poor thing.' _ ** that unhelpful voice said as a chill wind blew through the camp.  **_ 'Has it gotten any better for you?' _ ** he frowned. "just give it time." The cub looked over to him.

"Better how?" She asked—voice small and tentative. 

"You'll make new friends, learn new things until new just feels like home." He watched as she thought over his words.

"Well." She said after a moment. "I guess you're pretty old so you must have lots of friends. I'll try to be patient and see." She gave a shy smile up to him. "I'm Prisca, by the way!" He smiled and ruffled the fur between her horns.

"Good to meet you, cub. You can call me The Commander or Boss; everyone else does." He managed to keep the resentment out of his voice, at least. Prisca smiled at him before walking off.  **_ 'That poor thing is going to have its heart broken, and you'll have helped it happen.'  _ ** He growled under his breath and shook his head. These intrusive thoughts were grating on him. He spent a few more moments talking with the camp's cubs, each one confessing their hate for their new situation and did his best to make the most out of their new situations. As he walked back up to Efram, he saw him talking to Prisca.

"Well? what do you say, cub? Give it another go?" Efram asked. 

"I'll try not to light anyone's tails on fire this time..." She pouted. Efram laughed and turned to face him. 

"Thanks, Commander. Here, something for the trouble." Efram handed him a small box. Upon opening it, he found it filled with letters. He gave the other male a questioning look. "They're letters your sire wrote. Said they were things he wanted to say to you once he could see you again. Figured maybe you'd want to see. It's up to you to do what you want with them, though." Efram walked away, not waiting for an answer. He gripped the box tightly in his claws. His first thought was to toss it in the lava pit and be done with it all, but he didn't. He placed the box into his pack and walked away. 

His sire had been a terrible stain on his life. The constant fights, the disgusted looks his primus would toss his way. It took him nearly ripping the guts out of one of the other cubs later in his teens that it had stopped. At least, in front of him. It had gotten the attention of Howl, though. 

"I don't do rallies. Or Concerts. More importantly, I don't have the time." Almora's voice pulled him out of his musings. He was surprised he'd already made it to the crag while he'd been deep in, though. That cub was right; he was getting old.

"You lead the final assault on the crystal dragon. One of our own, a Blood Legionnaire-" another charr said. She was looking away from the direction he'd come from, so she hadn't seen him.

"Gladium. I was a gladium before I was a general. Suddenly you can overlook that?" Almora asked, a snarl clear on her face. Not that this other charr seemed to notice or care.

"You lost your Warband. Terrible tragedy..." the nameless charr said in a clearly unsympathetic tone. "But would you really deprive your fellow charr the chance to rub elbows with a dragon slayer?"

"Yes, I would." Almora said firmly. He walked a bit closer, and Almoras head jerked slightly in surprise. "Ah, Commander!" She began walking away from the other charr, mutch to their apparent complaints. "Sorry, important Vigil matters, you understand." she patted the other female's shoulder and walked over to him.

"Who was that?" He asked, looking over at the charr now writing on a clipboard.

"Bangar's Minister of Moral. Wants me to make an appearance at some...concert." the thought seemed to give Almora shivers as she shook herself at the thought.

"You don't want to celebrate?" He asked, surprised. He figured she, of all people, would be jumping at the chance to dance on Kralkatorrik's grave. She shook her head. 

"I'm just passing through. Kralkatorrik's dead, but there are still three dragons left unaccounted for. But don't worry, we won't be doing anything yet. The Vigil has an outpost in the shiverpeaks monitoring the Jormag situations. I'm heading there to deliver the good news to them personally. I'll let you know if anything changes." Almora examined her claws a moment before giving him a nod. 

"Thank you, Almora." She gave him a nod and a half-hearted wave as she stalked off. He pulled out the paper that Crecia had given him and looked it over. 'Answer some questions, mingle with them, give yourself a good image.' He scoffed. How much better could his image be? He's killed a human god, three dragons, and a lich! "Excuse me, Varinia? What's this about a concert and am I invited?" He put on his best smile.

"The charr who killed Kralkatorrik! Of course! I was coming to talk to you next." She pulled up her clipboard again. "I'll put you on the list. Just try to keep your dragon on a tight leash this time, yes?" Her tone was joking, but it still grated his nerves the way people spoke about Aurene. 

"Of course," he said with a nod. "Is there anything you needed to ask me before I head out?" Varinia eyed him up and down. 

"You're Blood, right? What do you think of Bangar?" That was an interesting question. 

"He's young and ambitious. Well. Younger than me. Be he's done an excellent job leading Blood to glory. I also like his message of charr above all. We are charr first and last. No matter the Legion." His answer seemed to have pleased her as she wrote down what he'd said. 

"Excellent points, commander. The shows later tonight. I hope to see you there." She handed him a shiny ticket before heading off. He put it away in his pack and pulled out his waypoint traveler. Asura used them to instantly travel from one point to the next as long as one of their magic stones was there. They were insanely expensive to use and buy; thankfully, his position had granted him access to one of these. He found the waypoint near Blood Keep and felt the strange magic pull at his body as one moment he was one place and the next he was smack in the middle of the keep. The walk from Blood Keep was uneventful, and as he approached Crecia, she seemed pleased to see him.

"I've heard tell about your exploits, Commander. You've made yourself busy, and lots of people took notice." He nodded and saluted her. "Yes, mam, as ordered. I also met with the Imperators. No one seems too upset." Crecia nodded.

"Good. Maybe we can get this unity celebration to go off without a hitch-" the static from his communicator buzzing cut her off. 

"Commander?" Braham's voice came through, although he sounded like he was two steps from throwing up. "Can you come get me?" 

"Braham? Where are you." He asked. Irritation rising. He hopes the kid hasn't gone and done something stupid.

"They let me make one call, and I said. "Imma call my best friend in the world." And that's you." Braham slurred.

"The brig..." Crecia groaned under her breath.

"My face hurts. My fists hurt. Everything hurts. You're not mad, are you? Don't be mad..." Braham said. It sounded like he was about to cry.

"Collect your norn, Commander. Let the guards know I approved his release." Crecia let out a sigh as she pinched the bridge of her muzzle. 

"Stay put, Braham. I'll be there in a moment." He avoided answering Braham's question.  **_ 'Another mess for you to clean up.' _ **


	6. Cracks Let the Bitter Chill in.

The walk up to the cells allowed him to collect himself. It felt like he was at his whits end with everything going on at once. Everything just kept compounding on top of each other.

"What are you doing? You can't just-" The jailer's voice cut through his thoughts.

"I'm here to pick up a norn. Braham Eirson? Tribune Glowstone sent me." He interrupted. 

"Who- oh. That norn." She kicked her feet up on her desk and pulled up a book on the table. "He's in the first-floor cell. Straight ahead." She pointed a clawed thumb towards the cells in the back of the room. He walked past without another word. 

The sounds of soft groans and whimpers filled the air as he got closer to the cell in the back. There on the floor lay Braham, clutching his head and curled into a ball.

"So...Did you have fun? Get everything out of your system?" He asked. 

"Yeah, boss...just give me a moment to get the world to stop spinning." Braham groaned. As they slowly walked back to the warden, Braham spoke up again. His voice worried.

"I don't think I'm a good diplomat." They could at least agree on that.

"Least you didn't start any fights." He offered. 

"No, but I finished one. Don't worry. I'm okay. Ryland told me what happened." 

"Well, there's the trouble maker. I've never seen anyone vomit that much. I'd be impressed if I wasn't disgusted. Anyways, your things are on the rack." The warden said, pulling them out of their conversation. 

"Uh...wheres my bow?" Braham asked as he put his kit back on. 

"Everything you had on you is in that bin. Nothing more, nothing less." The warden said as she looked back at her book.

"You sure? You didn't see a big curved thing with arrows?" Braham asked as he desperately looked in every crate and locker he could find.

"I know what a bow is." the warden scoffed. "And you didn't have one." She returned to her book.

"Oh no...!," Braham shouted. The panic was evident on his face. "Commander we-"

"We'll find it cub, we just have to retrace your-" the sound of popping static from his communicator cut him off.

"Commander? A word. Just stopped some charr from roughing up one of Almoras Vigil."

"What?" He replied in surprise. Though if he thought about it. Those empty food stalls, the tension he'd been feeling everywhere he went, and the hushed tones he noticed some charr speak.

"It's like you can feel the violence in the air. A storm's brewing. Need to talk to Crecia and Bangar before this gets out of hand. Meet me in Bangar's office. Probably best if it comes from both of us." He sighed. 

"Braham. Look's like I won't be able to help you find your bow for now. I'm sure Kas and Jory would be more than happy to help." 

"Don't worry, boss! You go deal with whatever's brewing." He gave Braham a nod and used the waypoint back at blood keep. 

_

As he approached the ramp leading towards Bangar's office, the sound of shouting drifted towards him.

"They would have killed him if Brimstone hadn't stepped in!" Almora?

"What's going on here?" He cut in. Four heads turned towards him. 

"A difference in opinion." Crecia said in as clerical a tone he'd ever heard.

"Humans." Bangar chuckled. "So fragile. Sometimes we forget." Almora turned on him, pointing a clawed finger at him in anger.

"You have a problem with one of my people? You take it up with me! Don't send your thugs to rough them up!" Almora shouted.

"I think you're overestimating my reach there, Almora." Bangar said with a cocky smile. Almora growled, spat at Bangars feet, and walked away. 

"The floor is yours." Crecia said with a wave of her hand at Rytlock and him.

"Great." Rytlock answered. They were lead up the ramp towards Bangar's office. All around them, there were charr talking. He could make out faint conversations, and none of what he heard sounded good.

_' **Primordus looms over them all, yet they can't seem to look past yesterday's problems.'** _A chill wind comes from outside. 

'They can't see ahead of what's in front of them. Not like...' 

_**'Not like us.**..' _Us?

"Rytlock. I thought I told you to see me alone." Bangars voice cut through his thoughts.

"Hearing a lot of old growls from young voices." Rytlock said, ignoring what Bangar said.

"We're concerned." He added.

"Go on." Bangar said, leaning forward in his seat.

"They're-excited," Rytlock said, choosing his words carefully. "Your speech riled them up."

"Then it did its job." Bangar answered.

"I've heard some of the whispers too. Our people are angry, scared maybe." 

"And why wouldn't they be. Your dragon-" Crecia cut in. He snapped his head at her, teeth bared in a silent snarl. 

"Aurene is just part of it, Cre. You said it yourself. Kralks gone, and no one knows where to point their weapons." Rytlock placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"Imperator, sir. You have the perfect platform here. Remind our people that the other races aren't our enemies." He pleaded. 

"If it's not dragons, it's something else. Ghosts, human separatists. You're old enough to remember our 'allies' used to hunt us like animals." Bangar steepled his fingers together and leaned back in his chair. 

"I remember well, Imperator. I was informed my brother met that very fate. Turned into a helm of all things." He clenched his fist. "But I'm also not blind to the future."

_' **Why do you bother trying to convince them. They'll never see the bigger picture like us.'** _A chill wind blows into the office from somewhere. 

_' **Look at them. Arguing about the past when we need to be looking ahead. You see it. But they're too caught up in their own squabbles to even begin to look up.'** _These were his thoughts...no. They were a voice—something speaking to him.

**_'I was right to choose you. You've finally caught on. Primodus is plotting his next moves. You must do the same. When the time comes, will you act?'_ ** the voice asked. _' **You know you cant trust them. They'll all fail you. But we can do so much more together. Ice fortifies'** _

The sound of steel striking flesh startled him back to reality. Rytlock was straddling Bangar as he rained blow after blow against his face. Without thinking, he marched forward and yanked Rytlock off their Imperator violently by the collar of his armor.

"What was that for!?" Rytlock cried out

**_'You know what must be done.'_ **

"Heh, look whos fangs finally grew in." He heard Bangar cough from where he lay. "Glad to see I have ONE loyal soldier here." the cocky smile on his face was infuriating. 

"Commander, you cant be taking his side!" Rytlocked shouted indignantly. 

"Side?" He replied with deadly calm. "There is no 'side'. There are dragons and us. This here?" He waved around the room. "Is going to split us apart and make stopping them even harder."

"I'm disappointed, Commander." Bangar spat a bloody wad onto the ground as he stood. "I thought you were one of mine. Looks like I can't expect much from people who leave their own kind for the filth out there."

_' **Do it.'** _

He felt something within him. Something finally broke. And through the cracks, he felt something cold slither in and settle in his chest and in his head. Without warning, he tackled the Imperator, and his fangs were filled with blood and meat of his neck as he ribbed it from the man below him.

"Commander!" He heard two voices cry out. But they were so far away. 

"That isn't my name." He said once he had spat the filth from his muzzle. 

"W-what?" Rytlock asked, confused. 

"What's my name Rytlock. It's not Boss; it's not Commander. What is it." He asked.

"Why are you asking that? You just ripped the Imperator's neck out, and you're asking me that?" Rytlock asked in complete disbelief. 

**'It's time, my Champion.'**

He turned on his heel and marched out of the room. Everything was a blur. It was so cold. Where was he? What was happening? He looked up and found himself in swirling snow.

_' **You needn't worry about any of that now, my champion. You made the right choice.'** _

Distantly he could hear something roar. It sounded pained. 

"Where am I...who am I...?" He could practically feel the smile in the voice.

**'You are Fregion Eternity Breaker. My champion.'** it whispered. 

**__ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Update again! And for those looking for the rytlogan don't fret! its coming soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Figured id post what i have here! Probably wont continue this for a while seeing as I'm constantly busy with work but enjoy! Please do comment it means a lot to me!


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